


Atoll

by veren



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Not Canon Compliant - Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Post-TLJ, Post-TRoS, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Pre-TFA, Slow Burn, Smut, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, post-TFA, pre-TLJ, pre-tros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:21:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23731513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veren/pseuds/veren
Summary: "Is there no bigger betrayal to the Resistance?"
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Kudos: 8





	Atoll

Being a doctor for the Resistance was never something she had planned. Being a doctor itself was hardly in the cards, to begin with, but she had certainly never wanted to choose sides. She was more than content with treating people injuries sustained in drunken scuffles and teenagers falling off of speeders to keep her occupied.

Clumsy city folk was enough for her, and it kept her happy enough.

And then, the injuries started getting more severe. Stab wounds, blaster shots, a lost finger, and one occasion, a disembowelment. As far as she knew, nothing of note was happening on her planet, and she had simply assumed it to be some rowdy teenagers meddling where they shouldn’t. It wasn’t her business to pry on how they got their injuries, so she left it alone. They were infrequent, sometimes months going between events, so she did her job, and let only the usual things keep her up at night.

“Alright, I need you to just look in my eyes, okay? Just look at me and take a deep breath.” She held the child’s dainty hand in her own, trying to quell the tears springing to his eyes due to a rather nasty splinter spanning the palm of his hand. He had run in wailing, his sobs heard from a mile away. He slowed when he came into the small building that acted as the hospital, the doors open to let the blazing heat out. His other hand was holding his wrist out for her to see, a frown on his face and crocodile tears falling from his doe eyes. She immediately kneeled, taking his hand in hers as she looked at it, his tears now falling silently, only the occasional sniffle coming from his small frame.

Now, she was still partially on the floor, his trembling hand in hers while trying to calm his breathing. She looked down for a second, grabbing the tweezers she kept in the left pocket of her pants, never letting go of his hand. A glance down showed her that there was at least an inch poking out of his skin, and she quickly pinched it between the tweezers before looking at him again. He was scared, his eyes wide and his breath speeding up once again.

“All right, deep breath on three, are you ready?” He nodded, using his unoccupied arm to wipe away his stray tears. She counted, her voice appropriately soft to deal with the distraught little boy, and demonstrated a deep breath while maintaining eye contact, watching to make sure he did the same. She plucked it out in one tug, only a small noise squeaking from him and his hand mildly recoiling as it was removed. “See? Look at that, it’s out! Now, I have to clean it, okay? It might hurt a little, so I need you to be _super_ brave and take another deep breath _ _.”__

His tears now gone, his resolve seemingly returned due to the need to be brave, he nodded and sniffed once again. She let go of his hand to reach behind herself to grab a cloth with some alcohol. She counted again, pressing the cloth to his hand on three. His little hand jerked in response to the sting, but he remained relatively still. She wiped his palm, checking to make sure there weren’t any slivers left, before spraying some bacta on it. She smiled at him, her eyes softening, even more, at his drying tears. “Do you want a band-aid?” He smiled, his pink cheeks glowing even brighter at the proposition. She smiled again, standing to grab her assortment of patterned band-aids before kneeling once more, holding them out to him.

He silently pointed to a Wookie band-aid. “You want that one?” He nodded, suddenly bashful. She tucked the remaining few in her pocket, peeling the back off of his before placing it over the extraction point. She smoothed it with her thumbs, standing once again to discard what she had used. He was admiring the Wookie on his hand in awe, his eyes wide.

She had kept an assortment of fun band-aids around for the kids, figuring it was a small thing that could brighten their mood after an injury, and they seemed to enjoy it. Sometimes she pasted one to the drunkards’ forehead just for shits and giggles. Seeing them walk around with a smiley face or a droid plastered over a cut on their face was a good way to get everyone in the hospital smiling.

She turned back around and felt his body slam against her legs, his little arms looping around her knees in a hug. With a laugh, she leaned down and did her best to hug him back. “You were _very _brave.” He looked up at her, his eyes twinkling, and with a grateful smile adorning his face, ran out the door. She had never seen him before, and other than the sobs announcing his entrance, he never spoke. She watches him turn the corner and take off, hearing the slapping of his feet on the dirt getting quieter as he disappeared into the crowds.__

“That kid was pretty brave.” She froze at the voice now interrupting the usual buzz of the infirmary; she could recognize that voice anywhere, knowing the suave jackass that owned it only ever came to her for one thing.

“Poe Dameron,” He had become a regular guest in her establishment, always announcing his presence with a snide remark. Irritation suddenly bubbled up, burning in her stomach like acid. “Any particular reason you’re in my hospital?” she kept her back turned as she heard him slink forwards.

“You know why I’m here.” He came to lean against the counter she was at, holding his hand out as an offering for some of the grapes he was eating. She gave a slight shake of her head and he shrugged, throwing another one in his mouth.

“Well, then you already know what I’m going to say.”

“Can you just hear me out? Things are changing.” Of course, he would speak around the food in his mouth.

“I chose to live in a gray area for a reason, you know.” She played it safe by settling on Zandal. A neutral planet that stayed out of the embroilment of the First Order and the Resistance. She knew what side of the fight her morality placed her on, but she would never say it out loud. She knew better than that. So she just kept her political remarks to herself to save her ass.

He scoffed. “This settlement may be gray, but the planet isn’t.” She looked at him then, incredulous and eyes wide, but he ignored her and kept talking. “Like I said, things are changing. Listen, this is serious. Can we go somewhere private?”

She nodded, wringing her hands before walking towards the small isolated room that she called her office. She jerked her head at one of the nurses, who nodded in reply, heading towards the front to take over. She stepped into the office, him shutting the door behind him. He started to speak, but before he could utter a word, she interrupted him. “What the _fuck _are you talking about?”__

He sat down before talking, a sigh leaking through his lips. “The Resistance set up a temporary base here, on the other side of the planet. The First Order knows we’re here, so we can’t stay long. The senator has been doing some back door deals on both sides, and once they're here, he's going to have to choose. The city is most likely going to get caught in the crossfire, and you and I both know they’re coming.”

She was frustrated she didn’t know about the goings-on on Zandal, politically in particular, but now was not the time to worry about her naivety. She settled herself with a reminder that she didn’t do much outside of the hospital, so if nobody here said it, she wouldn’t know at all.

“So, what? You’re warning me?”

“No. I’m asking for your help. We need you.”

She rolled her eyes, her frustration from earlier coming on even stronger now. “You and I both know you have a perfectly capable doctor already. You don’t _need _me.” He passed a hand over the stubble grazing his face, his eyes impassive. “I can’t just leave, the people _here _need me and frankly-”____

“Our doctor is dead.” She paused then, the words dying in her throat, and pursed her lips. She ran her tongue along her teeth as he continued. “We’ve been doing alright so far, but we’ve sent the more severe injuries your way. You, of course, didn’t know they were Resistance fighters when you treated them, and that was intentional. We’ve been lucky, but we had no other option, you were all we had. Nobody that’s left can do what you do. It was either send them to you or lose them. We can’t take that risk right now.”

She sighed, running a hand over her hair and resting it on the back of her neck before turning away from him. The room now encompassed in silence, she stared out the window, the one that showed the entirety of the small hospital she called her own. She thought about the friends she had made, the regulars (for lack of a better word) that she had slowly grown a soft spot for. The nurses with hearts of gold. The little boy she helped a mere handful of minutes ago.

He spoke her name, his gentle tone interrupting her racing thoughts. “Listen, the First Order has placed spies all over the planet. They probably saw me with you so no matter what, when our base is attacked they’re probably going to come here too. You don’t have to make up your mind now, but please just-” He paused, running his hand over his stubble again. “Just come to the base. There are people there that need you. You don’t have to stay, we have the resources to get you off-planet and away from the First Order. We need your help.”

She would be the first to admit that she didn’t know much about Poe Dameron. All she knew was what he had told her in his brief visits, and even then he rarely talked about himself; all of his energy was used to try and recruit her to the Resistance. But even with all of those visits, this was a new side of him.

He sounded _desperate _.__

He had previously just been cocky, confident, her rejections hardly dampening his mood. This was something she had never seen from him, and she knew that she would probably never see it again.

And now, despite wanting to remain neutral to save her skin, she felt tugged by his desperation. The injuries they had sent her way were severe, a rarity in this city. People mere inches from death. She was beginning to wonder how she didn’t pick up on it sooner. People got cut with bottles, sure, sometimes lost a finger in a mine accident, but disembowelment?

_Idiot _, she thought. But once more, she calmed herself by remembering she never really asked what happened to her patients, she listened if they told her (and they usually did), and stepped in when she needed to.__

She took one last glance out into the hospital and fear gripped her. If they saw Poe with her, they would come in here, potentially harm the nurses, but if she disappeared with him, they would hopefully leave without causing any damage. This wasn’t just about her anymore, it was about saving the only people that can help others on this godforsaken planet.

She had been on Zandal for years, maybe longer than she had originally intended, but it was _home _for her. But now, she was in danger. Depending on how long the First Order had spies placed here, they may already know that she had (unknowingly) helped Resistance fighters. She knew that put a target on her back, on the hospital. She knew they wouldn’t care that she didn’t know they were Resistance, they would kill her anyway. She knew that her options were running low, fear spinning in her gut and nausea suffocating her.__

She steeled herself before turning back to Poe, her legs still feeling unsteady as she met his shining eyes. The air was gleaming with expectancy. “Lead the way.”

~~~

The closer to the base she got, the more violent her torrent of emotions became. Fear for her nurses, and, although lesser, fear for her own life. She didn’t want to commit to the Resistance just yet, but deep down, she knew she couldn’t go back. Not without getting her nurses, her _friends _, killed. Staying on Zandal was a death sentence.__

Poe had elected to take speeders back, _keeps us off the radar _, he said. But if she knew _anything _about this planet, it was that taking speeders was a fucking _dangerous _decision. She had treated enough speeder related injuries to attest. As if sensing her indecision, he (attempted) to ease her fears. “I’m a perfectly capable driver you know.”______

Eventually, grumbling and pouting, her hands trembling with fear and anxiety, she straddled the back of the speeder and held onto Poe as he zipped through the trees. She kept her eyes pinched shut the entire ride, so tight she saw supernovas. They hurt when she opened them again, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get her vision to return faster.

They had managed to hole up in some type of old abandoned bunker, probably Empire era. It was unassuming, to say the least. Crumbling, half-buried in moss, with vines twirling up and around the building. The only indication that anyone had been there was the two fighters standing guard at the door. It was in the middle of the forest, the trees so dense it was most likely invisible from the air.

She had never been in a forest before. She didn’t grow up on Zandal, and when she settled here, the hospital took up most of her time, so she had no reason to go in there in the first place. She regretted that immensely.

It’s _beautiful _, unlike anything she had ever seen.__

Trees were the only thing she could see, dense and thick and surrounding her. She could hear the faint whisper of a stream to the east, birds chirping in the trees above her. And the _smell _. It was rain and flowers, green and bright. She let out a light chuckle as she spun around, taking in the sights and sounds.__

“First time in the forest, doc?” Poe sounded amused at her childlike fascination, his broad frame leaning against the now powered down vehicle.

“That easy to tell, huh?” She walked towards the treeline, leaning down to hold her hand out to some furry creature that was looking at her in earnest. It came towards her slowly, sniffing her fingers before leaning back on its haunches. It was strange looking, remarkably small yet vibrant in color. Its eyes took up a majority of its frame, large and black, darting around like it was watching out for something.

“You still have those grapes?” She heard Poe walk towards her, digging in his pocket and holding one out. “You kept grapes in your pocket?”

“None of them exploded.” He said with a shrug. She rolled her eyes, holding the grape out towards the creature. It smelled her once again, and she felt its light breath hitting her fingers, before it snatched the fruit and ran back into the trees, it’s colorful tail being the last thing she saw before it vanished from sight. “You ready there, doc?”

She nodded, wiping her hands on her pants as she stood back up. She looked into the trees once more, seemingly infinite, before turning around and walking towards the base. She saw the two fighters guarding the door grin as she approached.

“Well I’ll be damned, Dameron, you actually fucking did it.” One of them spoke before smiling at her. He looked to be around her age, his head shaven and tattoos covering every visible inch of skin below his neck.

“What, you doubted me?” He smirked at them as he slung a bag he pulled from the speeder over his shoulder.

“Uh, _yeah _. You’ve failed how many times before?” The other one spoke before shifting her attention. “I’m Lomya, this is Vero.” Lomya gestured to the man next to her, and he nodded his head in greeting. She introduced herself in return. “It’s good to finally meet you, doctor. You’ve done a great deal for us.” She was young, her hair a bright purple and pulled into braids. Her smile was warm and kind, her eyes softening with gratitude as she looked at the doctor.__

“She’s about to do even more.” Poe came to stand next to her, a triumphant smirk on his face. “She came to help.”

“Are you staying?” Vero adjusted his blaster on his hip as he spoke, shuffling his feet.

She bit her cheek, taking a deep breath before responding. She didn’t know the answer to that question, but the least she could do was be honest about her indecision. “I’m not sure yet. But I’ll help the people you have here.”

“That’s good enough for us.” Lomya’s smile widened before pounding on the door with a closed fist. The door slowly opened, revealing three more fighters straining to push the metal slab open. Poe gestured for her to head in, in front of him. She placed her hand on the doorway as she stepped through the threshold.

The interior was the direct opposite of the forest directly behind her. It was bright, bustling. Chatter and typing echoing off the walls. It was incredibly cramped, and she could tell it was last-minute and set up in a hurry. People were working out of boxes, stuffed into the corner without proper space. Some of the chatter stopped as people looked up at her, mouths agape and heads turned. She swallowed, her fear creeping up so suddenly, so palpable she could practically taste it.

She looked at Poe as he stepped in line beside her. “We haven’t had any good news in a while. You being here is the best thing that’s happened in a long time.” He surveyed the room as eyes began to fall back down to their work and chatter returned. “Come on, this way.” He gestured to the left, starting to walk her down a long hallway. It was dirty and dark, with some of the closed doors chipping and sporting some rust. Its silence was almost haunting, only the faint echo of chatter from the main room following behind them. “Our ‘infirmary’ is in the basement.” He said as he pushed a call button on an elevator. “It was the only place we could fit it. Used to be some sort of weapon storage for the Empire.”

“Kind of ironic you’re holed up in an old Empire base.” She stepped into the elevator behind him and he laughed before pushing the button.

“Had to do what we could to recruit the best doctor in the galaxy,” He stepped in line beside her once again, and she punched his shoulder. “I’m serious, after that time you treated me, the Resistance has been trying to get you. The old base was attacked, so this planet seemed like the obvious place to go, considering you’re here. Why do you think we stuck our necks out and sent people to your hospital?”

She had recalled the time months ago when Poe had stumbled into her hospital with a blaster shot clean through his thigh. He had been through a scuffle but she learned not to ask questions, and he didn’t utter a word as she treated him. Whether out of self-preservation or exhaustion, she didn’t know but he disappeared almost as quickly as he had come in, and she didn’t see him for weeks after that. At the time, she didn’t know that he was the so-called “best pilot in the resistance”, but he had so confidently informed her on his subsequent visits where he tried to recruit her.

She sighed, shaking his comment free from her shoulders. “What am I gonna see down here?”

He sucked his teeth. “Nothing too severe, thankfully. Sprained or dislocated bones, some stitches needed here and there. No surgery needed for anyone as far as any of us could tell.” The doors opened with a cringe-inducing screech as the lift stopped. “Sorry about that.” He stepped out and she followed his lead.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. Death, the hot copper burn of blood, sweat, vomit, decay. This was a place permeated by death.

No wonder he had sounded so desperate.

It was somehow more bustling down here than upstairs, all of the makeshift beds full with the remainder slumped against the wall. A majority of the fighters had blood-soaked bandages in desperate need of a change, still caked in dirt and sweat from when they got injured. She had no idea how long they had been sitting and waiting, but she knew it was too long.

Three fighters tending to the injured stopped what they were doing and approached the two of them. “This is Luca, Myra, and Lilla. They aren’t trained like you, but they’re here to help you with whatever you need.” They all nodded their heads in turn, and she only spoke her name as an introduction.

Myra was the first to speak up. “We’ve done what we can so far.” She had bags under her eyes, and she was gaunt. She wondered when Myra last slept, the last time any of them had.

“It’s a start,” she smiled at her. “What’s the most severe injury? I should start there.” Luca jerked his head to indicate that she should follow him, and he showed her into an isolated corner of the infirmary. A woman was lying there, groaning and delirious with fever. She noticed a nasty gash on her abdomen, swollen and an angry red in color. A low swear left her lips as she approached the bedridden woman.

“We found her like this, she did it herself. We didn’t know how to fix it.” Luca sounded embarrassed, defeated. She looked closer, it was messily stitched together, unevenly spaced, every thread of differing lengths and now popping from strain, leaving the wound to gape once again. Pustules rounded most of the stitches that were still intact.

“It’s okay, I can fix this.” She started listing off the things she needed, and Lilla ran to gather them all, practically tripping over her own feet in the process. Their defeat was heavy in the air, their exhaustion and fear of losing someone so potent she could practically taste it. So, she did the only thing she thought to do and taught them how to save a life, telling them every single thing she was doing down to the most minute detail.

Almost eight hours in, and she was starting to shake. She had a needle pinched between her fingers for so long she had a dent, reset enough dislocations that she heard the telltale crack resounding in her skull. She had changed gloves more time than she could count, gone through enough gauze to create a person. As the number of people needing help started to dwindle, and the injuries started getting repetitive, she told all three of them to go sleep, and she could finish out herself. They finally relented after a great deal of protest, wishing her the best of luck before retreating.

They really did need her here. And despite her exhaustion, she persisted, grateful eyes and returning color acting as her fuel.

At hour fourteen, Poe came back downstairs, the horrid screech of the elevator announcing his arrival. He had two cups of caf in his hands. She looked up at him, giving him a grateful smile before looking back down and continuing to stitch up the young technician currently prostrated in front of her, his arm resting on her lap and his eyes closed.

By now, she had been awake for over twenty-four hours. Most of the people already treated had gone back upstairs to continue their work, much to her dismay, but they left promising to heed her warnings about pressure and straining themselves.

The good thing about them leaving was the beds and overall space it freed up, most everyone now having a comfortable place to recover or wait for her care.

She finishes up and asks the young tech if he needs anything else, and he declines, turning over and placing his uninjured arm over his eyes. She slips off her gloves, tossing them in the trash as she walks over to the strapping pilot. “How’s it going down here?”

She was sure she looked insane. She could feel her hair plastered to her face with sweat, falling down her neck where it had escaped from her ponytail. Red and sweaty, blood splatters on her clothes, she felt triumphant. The whole room felt healthier. “I could ask how it’s going up there.” He was bound to have seen the influx of people returning upstairs, bandaged but determined. “I’ve almost got everyone down here. I let the others go a while ago so they could get some rest.”

“We’ve got a lot of good people back at work, thanks to you.” He drained his mug before speaking again. “Do you need me to help with anything?”

“Yeah. I have a fractured shoulder. Need you to hold her torso still while I fix it if you can.” He nodded, setting his mug down. She handed hers to him to set next to his own before walking over to her bed. Her name is Winnie, she joined the Resistance only a short while ago, and almost died in the last raid. “All right, Winnie, Poe is gonna help me. I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt like a bitch.”

She nodded, gritting her teeth and she held her injured arm out for her to grab. She looked at Poe before directing him on what to do. His hands were gentle on her, one holding her still while the other he offered out for her to squeeze. She gingerly grabbed Winnie’s arm, positioning it before looking down at her. “You ready?” She nodded again, breathing roughly out of her nose. She counted down from three, a sickening crack sounded as she put the bone back into place. Winnie groaned, and she could see her knuckles turning white with how hard she was gripping Poe’s hand. Some tears slipped out of the corner of her eye, but other than that, she showed no other signs of pain.

Poe lifted his hand off of her torso when she was done, but kept his hand out for Winnie to hold as she wrapped it to keep it immobile. Her breathing was stabilizing, but it was clear she was suffering. Some painkillers were slipped into her hand before moving onto the next.

Poe followed her as she went, helping her as she needed it, but otherwise remaining silent. For two hours, he stayed by her side, offering comforting smiles to his friends as she treated them.

When she was finally done, she slumped against the wall, exhausted but relieved. She didn’t know what time it was, but it had been entirely too long since she last slept, and she felt the exhaustion weighing her down. He chuckled before offering his hand out to her. “Looks like you need a break, doc.” She raised her eyebrows but took his hand, standing up and following him to the elevator. The hallway that was grim on their first walkthrough was now vibrant and full of life, newly familiar faces smiling at her as they passed. Poe walked through one of the doors that was closed before, revealing a ladder that let in the morning sunlight. She raised her eyebrows as he climbed up, but she followed nonetheless. He offered his hand to her as she got to the top to help her out, and she gladly took it.

He had taken her to the roof. He walked with her across the cement, occasionally stepping over the twisted vines swirling across the pavement. Despite how tired she was, she knew she would laugh if he tripped. He eventually settled when he got to the opposite side, sitting with his legs hanging off the edge, and patting the spot next to him, imploring her to join him. She sat, grateful to finally be off her feet. They sat in silence for a while, once again just listening. The river sounded closer now, the birds a little louder. The cool breeze soothed her sweat-soaked skin, and she closed her eyes, resting her weight on her hands and turning her face towards the sky.

“What’re you thinking?” He broke the silence, still staring straight into the woods, occasionally breaking his gaze to watch the plants he was tracing with his fingers.

She sighed. She had been doing that a lot lately. “I can’t go back. I can’t put my girls in danger like that.” Couldn’t put _herself _in danger like that, either. She thought about all the people she had helped today, how grateful they were for her, the relief that Luca, Myra, and Lilla felt at her presence. How many she had helped, just by being there.__

“We can send you away, you know. Away from us, away from the First Order. You could start fresh, remain neutral. I think we all want you to stay, but-” he trailed off, shrugging. She took a deep breath, inhaling until her lungs burned with strain as she thumbed the bracelet on her wrist. Blood had got on it, the deep rust color soaking into the detailing. She would have to clean it later.

“I have a list of things I need, more supplies. Being a doctor for a rebellion is a messy business, after all.” That was the only confirmation she offered, but he looked at her then, smiling and shaking his head. That was good enough for the both of them. They sat in silence for a little longer, looking back out in front of her and admiring all that was. He was grateful, relieved, and she could feel it.

“All right, doc. I think it’s time you get some well-deserved sleep.” He stood, wiping off the back of his pants before offering his hand to her again. He leads her back to the ladder, going down before her and then turning to help her once more. He walks her down the same corridor, taking an eventual turn and opening a door.

It was quaint, just a cot and a refresher, a small lamp in the corner supplying a minuscule amount of light. Just at the sight of a bed, her body slumped and she heard him chuckle. “There’s some spare clothes in the refresher for you, everything you need should be in there already.” She nodded, stepping past him to go in. “Oh, and doc?” she turned to look at him, the light from the long corridor casting a long shadow of his body into the room, only a ghost of a smirk detectable on his face.

“Welcome to the Resistance.”


End file.
